let the bodies hit the floor
by kunoichi79
Summary: All she wanted was conventional and easy money when she first applied for the job in the Nostrade's mansion. She always knew that the mafia had shit going down, but she doesn't have to be directly involved, right? After all, she's just a driver. KurapikaxOC
1. Chapter 1

_7:45 PM_

The figure stood faithfully beside the limousine's door. The master, she observed, was forty-five minutes late, for the party was supposed to start with all the patrons present. She readjusted her tie and briefly wondered if she made it right.

By all means, she will never understand the point of slinging a flimsy piece of cloth around the neck.

Finally the man arrived. Although he was neatly groomed and tailored, the dark bags under the man's droopy face and his almost wild but dazed sort of expression didn't escape her notice. She took a step back with precision and made a low bow.

"Good evening sir. The car is ready." She moved to open the door but his expression stopped her short.

Irritable and rude as he was, he demanded. "You are not my driver! Where is he? How come this is the first time I've seen you? Who gave you the permission!?"

"He resigned two weeks ago, sir. I have been your temporary chaperon since."

Eyeing her with uncertainty but relenting nonetheless, Light Nostrade slowly entered the car without much sensible thought but exhaustion and distrust towards everything around him except for the head bodyguard who stood beside him for the most part. It seemed to her, the only opinion that mattered to the old man the most was of the latter's.

The drive was silent.

The party ended later than she expected. She was allowed to go home (for there was no space for her in that that humongous empty mansion) but not without a few words and insults from the distracted old man that have become annoyingly repetitive in the duration that she was employed as his driver. The income was a lot lower than most of them who worked under him, but it was the biggest amount she had received in her entire life.

There was no need for artificial light as the strong moonlight poured into the small, cramped room. Several bills of money was scattered all over the tiny bed, each one meticulously counted. The girl sighed.

Still not enough.

She lied flat against her back and stared blankly at the chipped-off paint at the ceiling. The room was the cheapest and nearest one yet, and although its condition was worse than bad, it was all she could afford as of the moment. Not that she was complaining though. Finally having a room to sleep in was a blessing enough.

She could hear a woman's giggle and a hoarse grunt outside. Ah, the cycle goes on, she mused wryly. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, her inhaler safely in one hand in case her lungs would betray her again. After a few moments, the banging of the wall and the throaty moans with strings of incoherent curses resonated the entire vicinity.

She imagined sunny fields and daffodils and the smell of pancakes perhaps.

It was a good image enough to drown everything.


	2. Chapter 2

_2:27 AM_

The speedometer swung like a pendulum losing its control as she took a sharp detour in the midst of the darkness. She could feel the expensive leather penetrate her fingernails, the dents becoming more apparent as she gripped the damned steering wheel a little too tightly for comfort. Only 7 minutes ago only the faint sound of the engines and the soft music was heard all throughout the ride when her boss's mood suddenly changed and told her to quickly shift gears. It was at that moment she heard the series of gunshots.

_What the hell?_

Beads of perspiration decorated her forehead, and most gathered uncomfortably at her chest and armpits. The indicator pointed indignantly that she was currently travelling at a murderously suicidal speed. She briefly stole a glance at the side mirror and saw the silver Camaro's (she could only tell the colour through the moonlight) headlights blinding brightness. _Shit, _she cursed silently and made another turn—smoother this time, as she could only trust the man at the passenger's seat who gave out his instructions with such calmness that both terrified and amazed her. But then again, he knew the foreign roads better than she did.

"Keep your pace while I distract them," he ordered.

She expertly manipulated the gas pedal as several shots were made by her boss in quick succession. Despite his attempts, the tailing pest was getting closer and closer. She cursed inwardly once again. This might end up in another bloody mess.

Then she saw a small opening in the woods at the side of the road. She turned to him in askance, praying.

This time, he caught her eyes—and there was her answer.

_Go._

Immediately she added more pressure on the gas pedal, let out the clutch, and steered the car in the direction of the opening, using throttle to control the angle of the drift. The car rumbled violently as its wheels screeched in surprise, and in a span of a millisecond, she turned a full drift into the woods and left the Camaro slamming on a huge trunk.

The bright flames seemed to her a bit glorious despite the fact that a small part of her heart was eaten with guilt. She pulled back the brakes and let out a shaky breath, reducing the rumbling engines into a raspy whisper and then silence.

"... Well done, Clandestine."

The rich tone, both uncommonly delicate and huskily masculine, resonated on her eardrums before the message itself processed inside her brain. Her vice grip on the tortured wheel loosened involuntarily in response, the harsh marks and the faint traces of leather adorning her red blistered hands. She turned back, and her eyes met the deep russet-colored orbs halfway.

She observed him silently; taking in the expensive suit that perfectly fitted his relaxed but poised lean form, the shoulder-length golden mane that was tied into a short ponytail—a few strands escaping and framing his flawless angular face, the silver dangling earring at his ear, and the cold, calculating almond-shaped eyes that was openly scrutinizing her entirety as much as she was discreetly doing.

"Thank you sir, but it was because of your efforts that saved us both." She amended, trying to cast away from his impending stare—but failed miserably.

"I highly doubt it was only because of me," he leaned back, and was the first to break the contact as he looked out to the window. "You have shown a fairly well impression over the several months." She faced forward once again, turning on the ignition as she listened to him speak in silent acquiescence. "Just make sure you know where your priorities lie."

It was easy for her to comprehend why the Nostrade lady had always wanted to keep the attractive but mysterious head bodyguard in her dainty fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

It's probably the way he speaks that draws her in.

It is the curve of his mouth, she muses, when he becomes irritable and fucked-up and smart-assed. It's the way his tongue parts the two folds of chapped thin lips and bark down the orders upon them, too harsh for normal people but too righteous to actually curse in public.

It could also be the way he stands, the way he brings himself. The quiet confidence rather than arrogance as he coolly rebuffs the enraged businessmen out for nothing but blood. It's how he gives one glance at the Statue of David and still finds faults and how he instructs her with cold patience and considerable distance. It's the way he acknowledges her lightly when she becomes a saviour in case something goes awry.

No, it could possibly be his brain and his superior intellect. She has always been a sucker for highly intelligent individuals. For someone who grew up in a city of garbage meteorites, there was little to no possibility of attaining a proper education. She praises herself of having a good memory and a better understanding compared to most of her peers back in the early days; burying her nose inside tattered books and even reading and rereading decaying food wrappers' nutritional values. She is greedy when it comes to knowledge. But she shrank so invaluably when she came to the more developed cities—that's why she attaches herself to smart people to hopefully be rubbed with their smartness. Yes, that's probably it.

It scares her as much as it exhilarates her.

And she feels mighty glad because she prays he doesn't have the foggiest idea about it. She is content on watching from afar, not getting too close, never even hungry for more. Hell, she even feels the comfort of not knowing the man too much. Just the physical aspect of him and his enigmatic ambiance—a harmless crush, to put it in teenage terms.

But she is no teenager; she left the title a long time ago. She is not scared of entertaining the whimsical thoughts between a man and a woman anymore, for the years had taught her only too much for such things like matrimony, romance or fairy tale bullshits to exist. People exist upon sexual natural instinct, but since they tend to make honey-dipped reasons to find logic upon their animalistic desires towards other things or people, they wrap it in a so-called feeling like 'love.' And thus, they invent those god-awful shenanigans and customs to intensify their points.

Why don't just say, "I want to bang you because you look sexy" or "You got my way of thinking and since there are people like you who got my way of thinking then you as awesome as me?"

She convinces herself that she doesn't belong to those of people. Feelings are merely hindrances; they create barriers and unwanted attachment and wars and overcomplicate simple things.

Now the question is _why is she so worked up with this?_

Then another sprouts inside her brain, _Wait, what the hell does she mean by __**this? **__What is a "this?"_

Her troubled thoughts are stopped when she feels her phone vibrate. "Hello?"

"_Meet me at the parking lot. Dress accordingly since it is a formal party." _It's him.

Damn it.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

A lot can happen in a parking lot, damn it again. She prays to whomever to bless her provocative mind.

* * *

A/n: _i was supposed to be studying for my anatomy exams, i honestly do. But hell i can't resist :( thanks to **cm21, Colorless Butterfly, and cvgh.****  
**_

_An as for what you have asked, cvgh. *Evil smile* We'll see how this story unfolds, shall we?_


	4. Chapter 4

"Mouuuuuuu, we're gonna be late! Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!"

The impatient but excited shrieks of Neon Nostrad filled the black Audi for the rest of the trip. Clandestine tried to understand her uproar with all that was remaining of her patience, but with the young woman's natural off-putting attitude, it was wearing off by each passing millisecond. She stole a glance at the rearview mirror before adding more pressure to the gas pedal.

She was secretly delighted when the lady was thrown back at the seat and this caused her to shut up for a while.

The smaller bodyguard at Neon's right gave her a reproachful glance while the other at her left snorted a laugh. Kurapika, who was sitting at the front seat, narrowed his eyes at the guilty one. But she just shrugged innocently and whistled a tune.

The lady did not appear to have the slightest clue on what just resided between them.

She was starting to get used to the young mistress's antics. Crazy and spoilt and unnecessarily flirtatious when it came to decent-looking men, Neon was a handful of expensively posh things. Anyone would mistake her for a hyper hormonal fifteen year-old teenager instead of a woman of twenty-two.

The night was dealt with nothing but her endless banter with Basho and repetitive inquiries with Senritsu about her dress. Sometimes, suggestive compliments were thrown to Kurapika. Clandestine was thankful none of the lady's attention strayed to her.

When the group arrived at the party, the head bodyguard explained to the lady that the two bodyguards would be her company for the rest of the evening as he had another business to attend to. She pouted and demanded why it should be _him _and not the others, and when would the day come when _he _would come as her escort for the nights to come by. The female driver at the side was mildly amused by this.

"Because your father appointed me for something else and I'm not the one for parties, mistress." He said with controlled emotion. Because of the finality of his tone, the petulant woman gave in. But before the trio went inside, the cheeky princess had the audacity to rub his arm in a way that would make any man's toe curl with pleasure, "Come back for _me, _okay?"

He was obviously miffed, but not with embarrassment. This confused Cladestine a bit.

As she was about to start the ignition, his phone went off. He stared blankly at the screen before excusing himself a slight distance away. She watched his gradually relaxing features for a moment in curious wonder, her brows almost reaching up to her hairline.

_Is he talking to a girlfriend or a family member or...?_

Then she heard him banter across with ease, a guy he called Leorio in the other end. Her eyes became saucers when realization struck—

_Holy shit, are his preferences...?_

That explained it, she blinked rapidly as she turned the heater on, her fingers clammy and cold and shaking because of the cold and of something else which came up to her as quite unheard of but still in any way amusing. The reason why he was not affected with the advances of amorous women in his way and his nose held up high attitude...

_Whoah. _Her lips formed into a small o. She had nothing against those people; in fact her dear friend is one and she respected him very highly. But to think of this hard, no-nonsense man being a...

She stifled a laugh.

It was hard keeping a straight face when he came back with his signature stoic persona, offering as much as a curt conversation throughout the ride. At the back of her mind, she couldn't help but shake her head.

_Dear gods, I'm attracted to a free-willing bisexual. Or perhaps a man who prefers men._

Maybe she needs to reorganize herself properly now.

* * *

A/n: _i had so much fun writing this. All hail to coffee and midterms next week! Not. _

_I shall explain her appearance in tidbits throughout the snippets. But for now, let's keep the attitude glowing. Thanks to **cvgh, akilei, UnderTheTide, lilly le, A DUMB girl WITH a COMPUTER**, and **Savalle**. _:)


	5. Chapter 5

She just wanted to punch the living daylights out of that lead bodyguard's snarky, arrogant ass sometimes.

It was not the fact that Neon was being a five-year old banshee who reeked of whiskey and male perfume, screaming bloody murder to whoever 'stole' the bottle of alcohol from her grasp while he was not helping much aside from barking orders. She could handle all the babysitting—even though she was caked with the girl's spit when they forced her inside. It was not the fact that the old shitfaced geezer had the audacity to look at her _that _way when they carried his snoozing hellion to her quarters—though it was a part of her annoyance (she was not one of his whores, for crying out loud. Not only that, she was at the same age as his daughter.. wasn't he disgusted with himself?) but that was not entirely the reason.

It was because of the morning after that, when he was on his impossible moods, and she happened to smile politely despite her grating self-control. He commanded her to escort some rich billionaires who owned several whorehouses to god-knows-where. Everything was okay at first, but then one of the expired dickheads just had to _harass _her. It didn't help that she was on her period that day and that she was starting to get emotionally unstable.

She never thought she could throw a very nasty punch.

The commotion was at large inside that cramped vehicle. She was forced to turn back, but not without knocking the shit out of those blasted old perverts with her bruised knuckles. She knew she was exaggerating. She honestly did.

But if four grown men wanted to play anatomy on _her, _she wanted out _immediately_.

She called a friend who could wipe out fleeting memories as soon as she arrived at the parking lot of the building. He responded back in haste, gently touching the poor men's heads while admiring her handiwork. She prayed fervently that no one had seen her enter the humongous garage.

Then Kurapika just had to arrive at that_ perfect_ moment.

He was perplexed to see the black and blue face paint of the chimpanzees in suites at first. Then, when realization finally dawned, hysteria and massacre bloomed red in his face with full force (and she could swear even his eyes looked like it was bleeding or something-but that was probably just her heightened hormonal imagination). He demanded—no, shouted like a madman and asked _what the fucking hell was going on._ She could bet anyone her ears would be ringing for a month. She deserved this confrontation anyway. These men were very important business partners.

But then he had to insult her poor but helpful friend who skittered away like a terrified mouse at that exact moment.

That did it.

He had every right to insult her in every downgrading way possible but there was just _no damned way _she'd allow him doing that to someone who didn't deserve it.

She was too mad to say anything. He was too bitchy to say _nothing. _Car doors were slammed, and they disintegrated from their courteous, impersonal acquaintance to his condescending words and her rude silence plus one-word answers. She had been kind and obedient for _too _long, and even though her patience was known to be very agreeable, the best melded metal had to _snap_ when too much bloody force was applied.

She was a silent stew-er. It was not a healthy kind of beating the bubbling piss, but that was what she was.

This went on for a week, and then it became two weeks. She was exceedingly tempted to _castrate _someone with a _fucking dull spoon_.

She finally barked her concerns one breakfast day to the more experienced veterans who just took it all in with quiet understanding. But please don't get her wrong, she explained, she especially loathed these kinds of talks behind someone's back. They reassured her gently.

"We all had that, sometimes." Senritsu sipped her tea in a very ladylike manner. She gaped at the smaller woman as if she ate a mosquito's brain.

"And you guys did nothing but _shut up?"_

"Well, I tried to get a bit of sense out of him when he goes out of line. Sometimes he listens, sometimes he doesn't. He's a very complex young man."

"And he's a smart-assed bastard, that's for sure." Basho shrugged indifferently while stuffing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. "I was kind of surprised you managed to put up with him every single day for one and a half year. You must be an unfeeling robot to do that—"

"You don't say." She deadpanned.

"—although I think the robot might self-destruct first, literally."

She unsuccessfully shook her head out of the migraine that was starting to form, then she blinked twice, trying to be as kind as she could. "I mean, he's not that bad when he's in a good mood. He's not entirely this unholy when he's not. But lately he's just... I just want to..."

"Shoot him, yes." Basho nodded slowly as if he was talking to a child.

She buried her face into her hands and tried to rub the intense throbbing of her eyes with the balls of her palm. The killer hangover from last night didn't help either. Damn her two stupid friends (and her _only_ friends) who thought she was working too much. Well, was it her fault she needed money for her dysfunctional oxygen tanks to work? The angelic bastard was just an added bonus to her luck.

"Don't worry dear. You'll do fine, I'm sure." Senritsu gave her a crooked smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Just try to understand him for a time longer. He's got a lot of things in his plate."

The sadness in her eyes almost caught Clandestine off guard. There was always something between those lines that she swore to herself to never tread because it was something she might as well be better off not knowing. Ten meters away from the cliff was much better than standing at the edge to know what's down below the rocky abyss. There was safety, and there was assurance at an arm's length.

She sighed and stood for the door, her mind brimming with a new light. _Maybe this animosity between us is good,_ she mused._ At least I would not be concerned of the things these two are worried about_. She was aware this was a very selfish thought indeed, but she feared she might understand perfectly (she wished grudgingly she didn't have this stupid jello soft heart for every pitiful being ugh) and would forever be embroidered along with the landscape of _his _life. Then there would be no escape from the dark circles revolving around her head. "Better not keep him waiting. Gotta go. And thanks for the tip."

"Sure thing kid. And by the way, try to avoid him as much as you can to save trouble." The gruff man called out before she closed the door.

She prayed she could.

Au/N: _Did you guys read the latest manga chapter? I'm all for hnnnnnngggg –happiness— longest chapter i've ever made so far on this fanfic. Sorry fer making it too long. Swear it will be shorter by the next._

_Even I have to admit. Kurapika's temper is a wildfire despite his smarts. If he was a real guy, I would have knocked him with a pail no matter how gorgeous he is. XD Thank you __**a DUMB girl WITH A COMPUTER and cvgh **_


	6. Chapter 6

_2:28 AM_

It was the most unorthodox hour of the winter dawn, and she was camped at the back seat with her back pressing comfortably against leather and her hands behind her head.

Above her, the evening sky was a dark table cloth salted with stars. She brushed the strayed strands of hair away from her eyes and silently admired silvery Luna's graceful waltz with the clouds. It was at these few moments of utter solitude she cherished the most for it happened only too rarely for her liking. Too much things she did not wish to see and too much mental exhaustion kept her mind in constant noise and confusion.

But now, she was finally peaceful for once. Even though she knew it would only be a matter of minutes, she was glad to have had a small wish granted.

Light had long since retired under the warm silken sheets of the hotel with his bimbo nuzzled in his arms. She tried to block the grotesque image of the two Neanderthals smothering and petting each other at the passenger's seat at the front several hours ago (to her sheer horror, they had to it when she was freaking _running the traffic_). She was half amazed by the blonde woman's versatility, granting she kept on knocking her hard head on the car's ceiling whenever she encountered a bump. Hah.

As for Kurapika, who was comfortably sitting at the back _(that lucky bastard),_ she could not hate him even if she tried.

When her raging hormones finally took a chill pill a few days ago, she realized how inexplicably unprofessional she was acting during the incident and after. Not only was she placing her job at the manor in risk, she was also jeopardizing the future of the entire Nostrade household. It was no wonder why Kurapika became so bitter towards her. If it was not for Senritsu's interference, the irritable man would have thrown her outside the dumpster with his blasted chains and choked her to death with it.

She apologized again and again as he was monstrous as ever. Her salary was even cut into a miserable half and she had to suffer all the 24-hour shit he put her into as punishment. Even so, it was okay.

No matter how much headache her predicament has given her, his line of work was nowhere in comparison of all the employees of the mansion combined.

She was only the driver. Senritsu was Neon's nanny, in a weird sense. Basho did the underground business sweet talks and became Neon's bagboy as well (sometimes, if she felt generous). Linssen was... well, she was not sure what exactly but he kept his face in front of computers so it must be the bank accounts, and Kurapika—

Well, he was the special one and no doubt Light's favourite.

The scraps of his knuckles. The bloodied cuffs. The intensified rigidity. His natural way of intimidating _anyone. _The frightening intelligence. His obedience.

He was a killing machine.

The thought made her uneasy as she sat up, pulled her jacket closer. _Don't, _she chastised herself vehemently, _don't go there, Clandestine. Dangerous waters._

She diverted her attention by looking out the window. It was covered in mist due to her heat, and she could barely make out the fuzzy lights and distant cars at the distance. She was too lazy to wipe it out.

Then a familiar figure appeared from the back door exit of the hotel. Recognizing immediately, she quickly stepped out, turning autopilot mode. When he was a few meters away, he waved off her attempt to bow sincerely.

"There's no need for that. It's just me." Kurapika sighed as he entered the door which was opened for him. She ignored the heavy, hollow thumping of her head as she moved around the car to get to her seat. She had to fight to keep her eyes open and alert. "Where to, sir?"

The young man took his time rubbing his face with his hands in attempt to rub off the exhaustion before making a beaten off reply. "Nearest twenty-four hour convenience store. I need to grab something to eat. You may purchase something as well if you like."

Curiosity got the best of her as she turned the ignition on. She sneaked a glance at the rearview mirror as the young man stared back blankly at her. She hastily asked, "Aren't there any room services, sir? I hear that Coux La'Reu is the best hotel in this city."

He shook his head in reply. "Actually, the room service was fine. I just.." She noticed the flare in his nostrils as he closed his eyes, the irritated frown setting between his eyebrows. ".. need to get away. From there." He looked away in a huff, muttering something under his breath.

Then she remembered briefly he was staying in Light's two-room suite. So, that means anything loud could be heard in the room next to each other.

_Oh. And the bimbo and Nostrade were... they—oh.._

It all made sense now.

Migraine and lack of sleep was sucking her sanity like a leech, so coffee and Red Bull sounded like a chorus of angels.

She found one, five minutes later. They drank their coffee and ate their measly sandwiches in silence inside the car, each drowned with thoughts. The food seemed tasteless but it was needed to fill their stomach with _something._

"Why didn't you take the offered room?"

She was pulled out of her reverie when he tilted his face slightly, his onyx gaze fixed at her cobalt blue ones. Apparently he took the seat beside her because the cold got worse and the heaters were located at the front. She made a face and took a long swig from her Red Bull. "I don't wish to be rude, but I can't bear the thought of hearing them screw each other senseless."

He pressed his lips together. "Hmm."

She gave him a cursory glance. "You don't mind?"

He raised a brow.

She tried to explain her point. "I mean, him, with all the women he fucked in front of you."

He leaned back as he contemplated with a scowl. Then, he shrugged and watched the gentle falling snow in front of them. "Of course it irks me. But I have no right to comment since it is a part of my job to protect him." She studied him carefully as the frown turned into a mirror of disgust, then it gradually relaxed as he brought the cup of Macchiato in his lips. "It bothers you that much?"

"Yes," she admitted softly, then she looked down on her legs, trying to pick an invisible lint in her pants. "It's disconcerting, being stared at like some kind of toy."

Now she regretted having said that since he promptly faced her fully, his pretty face etching an unreadable expression. "Was this the reason why you assaulted Zenji and his men?"

"I.." The shame burned red on her cheeks and throat, her voice faltering as she tried to avoid his hard gaze. "I'm honestly sorry sir. I swear it won't happen again."

"If you dislike this kind of attention, then you shouldn't have been so naive as to have taken this job in the first place."

"I'll keep myself in check, sir." She was tired and weary and he was being obnoxiously snappy. _H__e had a hard life, _she reminded herself, _don't let his assholiness get you._

"You better." He coldly rebuffed, staring right ahead. "Your feministic views will not do any good in this business. Whether you like it or not, or no matter how sophisticated you are, men like Light will never regard women's existence more than playthings. You are a sensible girl-I expect you understood the risks. You are merely a tool in his eyes. If there comes a time he asks for you, there's nothing you can do about it."_  
_

The tension was starting to build up once again. She struggled to keep her composure and temper in check through gritted teeth and clenched fists. "With all due respect sir, I already know that."

He countered with a cool that equalled her simmering response. "Of course you do."

She decided it was smarter not to speak anything until he ordered something. It was that, or she might totally lose it.

_**Au/N:**__ i have to be honest with you guys—i have no clue on how i should make progress with my story. I mean, i feel like they're going nowhere. I'm not good with tension flirting and all that shit so.. yeah, that's my predicament. I'm not planning this to be sappy either. Any ideas?_

_And, thanks to __**Colorless Butterfly, cvgh, Savalle **__ your reviews motivate me. Ha-hi-hi :D_


	7. Chapter 7

_11:28 PM_

"Kurapika, my boy! I'm so glad to have you around! You've been such a great asset to this family." Light exclaimed while shaking the young man's hands in excellent spirits when the night ended. The latter remained indifferent at his response with his words on autopilot.

"It was nothing, sir."

Despite his lack of enthusiasm, Light grinned nonetheless and called for a bottle of wine. They should celebrate, he cried, for the success of this business agreement was nothing but joy. While the man babbled about the business trip that they would have by the next few days, Kurapika's mind was numb blank.

At the farther and more secluded areas of the mansion, the sound of water splashing into a surface, followed by silent gagging coughs, filled the small bathroom.

* * *

She used to love her hair - such deep natural burgundy hue, like a rose. It was the only part of her that she liked, for the rest of her body was a plain and uninteresting mess. It made her even paler, but she didn't care. It prided her of individuality; she didn't find anyone else having that kind of rich colour.

But now, she wished she was born bald instead.

She slipped down from the island counter and walked through the walls with slow, measured steps, which jarred her from the pressure that was curling inside her chest. She felt like as if she'd burst, like every passing step made her feel more delirious than before. By the time she finally reached her darkened room, she was damn near panting with an axe beating behind her skull. The walls were beige and pretty and so pristine without a single scratch.

A projectile of blood splattering again and again and again flashed at the corners of her eyes.

Her legs gave way and she trembled uncontrollably, her whole body weight falling down to the ground like a sack of potatoes with a thud. She could still remember the man's pleading eyes before she saw crimson spilling down his throat. She sat, curled her body and rocked back and forth continuously, whispering and grinning and sobbing with a lost stare, _pull yourself together baby— it's just another body—pull yourself together sweetheart—they're in good hands now._ Then she saw the woman, his wife, and his baby, just a child of three.

There was red everywhere. And like her hair, it was rich and deep.

But instead of roses and warmth, it smelled of death.

* * *

**Au/N: **_i'm sorry for the delay and for the very short update. And no, i'm not ending this story, me dears XD school's just being a bitch. Finals are finally this week so i'll be on full rampage update by the week after next. Thank you for the reviews, guys! They really motivate me. _

_**DreameroftheRealm, j , pitou77, Mona Kleine, a DUMB girl WITH a COMPUTER, Sea, Colorless Butterfly, Seer Klein :3**_


	8. Chapter 8

2:15 AM

She woke up paralyzed with fear and screaming.

Cold perspiration coated her entire frame as she willed herself to calm down. She slowly sat up as her frantic hands fumbled blindly for the glass of water in her bedside table, her body vibrating as fast and hard as her heart. She longed for physical comfort—a reassuring hand on her shoulders or even just a pat on the back, at least— to take her out of this misery and tell her everything's going to be alright. Desensitization was a proven way to get over something including your worse fear, and she had seen more dead bodies than she could count over the past few years. Surely she had seen enough, right?

Wrong.

She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she wore something warmer than the sleeveless shirt she always wore to sleep. The dreams had worsened as more souls were forcibly put to rest. She didn't exactly kill anyone—no, it was the boss's and the other men's job. But as she helped discard the bodies, the fact still remained that they removed a living soul from the faces of the earth. And she, she was always there to give a hand in disposing them somewhere. It was as if she was a part of the murdering squad.

She blinked back the tears. _You chose this life, you moron. You gotta live up and stop wimping around._

She could not go back to sleep. The images too vivid, the pain too real, the screams too loud. She wondered how the other bodyguards even dealt with this. Moreso Kurapika, since he handled these kinds of jobs ever since he was seventeen—as what he quietly admitted to her a few weeks after the first time he killed someone in front of her. It took some courage to ask and a hell lot of nerve. She didn't expect any reply aside from a _mind your own damn business,_ but he surprised her that night, and there was even a very subtle morose tinge in his voice as he looked away.

So maybe, somewhere down there below, there is a heart after all. It sparked something in her. Pity, perhaps?

She frowned at the abrupt detour of her thoughts. _Stop it right there. Dangerous waters, remember?_

She gingerly removed the blanket covering her body and slid out from her bed. Goosebumbs ran over her bare legs and arms, and she took her time looking for sweatpants before going down to the employer's dining area to get more water. Apparently, her thundering heartbeat had yet to calm down.

She smiled softly when she heard soft footsteps hovering the dim hallways. Basho had the habit of stress eating after hours. She entered the room and was about to poke fun at the huge man when—

Her eyes widened. No, there was no Basho in sight.

In fact, it was someone she never expected.

The moon illuminated the bare back that was facing her. The figure was crouched on the sink, his golden mane like silver spools of loose thread slightly covering his neck. He had a haircut, she briefly pondered, and it kind of suited him well. Her eyes travelled from the bulge of his sinewy arms to the V of his waist, and down to the light pants that covered his powerful legs. She gulped. _Dear Kami, why did I come down again?_

Then she noticed something else. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she detected a distinct scent of whiskey in the air—or was it vodka? Her eyes widened when she realized what he was holding.

Then she could not believe what he did next.

With his hand leaving the bottle of vodka at the side, he intertwined both of his fingers and whispered to the gods, confessing all of his sins as if he could still be purified. Then he whispered names of people, places, events and dates with tenderness and remorse, then hatred towards the next. The bottle was reclaimed, and she flinched when he made a sudden movement of throwing the rest of the contents into his lips in one gulp. Under the moonlight, his pale skin stretched across the rippling muscles that became all too prominent. He looked like a thinner version of a broken Adonis—so beautiful and fragile in his last walk towards self-destruction.

She was entranced—heart loud and slow, and slightly terrified, mind blown that this vulnerability of his existed in front of her.

Her mind screamed to creep back to her quarters with all the stealth she could manage before she ruins a very personal and emotional moment. She knew what he was like - a man of few words but with oceans of secrets. If he caught her spying at him, she was not sure what in blazes name he would do.

She quietly began to step back, her body still facing him. She was a bit glad that his senses were a bit muddled for he could have heard even the slightest sounds if he was sane. It seemed that he didn't notice since he did not move an inch, so she figured she could finally turn around and leave.

But just as she moved, the floor underneath her creaked.

Kurapika whirled around and their eyes met.

She felt all the blood draining out of her face.

Red. Not just ordinary blood red but—but glowing, like a stop light with a blinding intensity.. red.

She forgot how to breathe. The tension between them was palpable.

_Holy.. holy effing shi—_

She felt her back slamming on a wall.

Both of her arms were pinned above her head. One strong hand was wrapped tightly on both of her smaller wrists and the other was pressed none too lightly at the juncture of her neck. The scent of alcohol around her had gone three steps stronger, making her utterly shell-shocked and wide-eyed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His rough whisper was unnaturally low and husky, his breath hot on her ear. Her throat felt dry and she could speak nothing, could think nothing at all. No, she refused to believe this was him. It just cannot be. The prim arrogant bastard she knew never sounded and held like this, and she could never even imagine he was capable of feeling... like this—not even with the influence of alcohol. He asked again, with a drunken slur of his words this time, and she felt light-headed.

The next thing she knew, the vice grip was hard on her waist.

Her mind failed to process anything except for the hard-rock press of his very warm body against hers and the harsh breathing on her neck. She gasped, although her first instinct was to yell, and pounded her fists on his chest with all the strength she could muster—_let me fucking go, you sick bastard!_ But he was too strong and too under the liquor's spell to give a damn about what she was saying.

Just for tonight, he reminded himself. Tonight he must hold on to something alive and kicking—could it be a cat or a cow or, or just... anything, that could fight back and hurt him, or wound him and pierce blood through his skin. Anything that could remind him that he was not just a floating homeless entity living in a daydream of nightmares. Tonight, he would forget about all his ideologies and principles and responsibilities and he will allow his body to lose itself temporarily. He would not plan to do anything sinister, though. Despite his abnormal state, he was still perfectly aware of who she was.

All he wanted was a reminder of existence. And the human touch was what he honestly, irrevocably crave as of the moment.

His arms encircled around her and he kept it there to fuel her anger with her tinier squirming frame trapped underneath. He buried his face into her hair, taking in her rosy scent, and pushed himself deeper into her in resentful retaliation to muffle her screams. Her fingers clawed at his chest and drew scratches on his skin, making him hiss in both pain and something else. He could not fathom the strange sensation that was building up inside him each time her body arched against his in attempt to push him away. It was not a bad feeling, but it was not comfortable either.

Feeling even more befuddled than ever, he let her go.

_What..? _Her mind was in a muddled haze when she felt her lower body land unceremoniously on the floor. Both her strength and resolve had waned on the last minute, and her oxygen-deprived brain erased any trace of animosity which only left the urge to just _breathe inhale exhale breathe and survive for crying out loud. _The last thing she remembered was a soft blur of the moonlight.

_What.. the fuck just happened?_

Then, everything in her vision officially dimmed to darkness.

* * *

**Au/N: **_I'm really feeling it, uhuh. Hahaha XD You can say that Kurapika is very OOC here. Keep in mind, my dears, that he is in the influence of a very strong alcohol. Besides, I can't make any development if there's no OOCness involved now, can I?_

_And - **pitou77, complicatedmind21, a DUMB girl WITH a COMPUTER :)** :x_


	9. Chapter 9

The next thing she remembered was the annoying white light behind her eyelids.

The cold air penetrated her skin as she groggily covered her face with one hand to unsuccessfully shield the sun's rays. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried covering her entire face with the pillow she was drooling on. It was indeed a close attempt, but then her lungs complained none too subtly by the lack of air. She let out a series of curses before throwing the poor thing somewhere. _Winter's supposed to be insanely cold and dark, _she grumbled, _and here I am pestered by the brightness like it's the middle of freaking summer._

Truth to be told, there's nothing beautiful about Clandestine in the morning.

She peered outside the window and found out that nearly everything was covered in white fluffy things. She peeled off the blanket covering her bare legs. For some odd reasons, she never felt too cold to cover herself in times like these unlike most people did. Maybe it was due to having so many winter nights on the streets and under abandoned bridges with nothing but a shirt and a thin cotton blanket. Most would've died with frostbite or hypothermia, but she didn't.

She lazily stood up and planted her bare feet pleasantly on to the icy floor. There's something off about something she could not pinpoint. Her face sat into a frown when distorted images clogged beneath her vision. She tried to focus, debating against her better judgment if it was a memory or just a figment of her overused imagination. But the more she thought about it, the more it faded away to oblivion.

Her scowl deepened.

She faintly remembered changing her clothes before going out her room and someone nearly choking her to death. There's also a creepy feeling associated with bright crimson—she swore she would never see the blasted shade the same way again. But she did not remember walking back into her room nor could she remember any particular individual who was with her at that moment.

And she was dressed exactly the same way she always slept in—nothing but her old oversized shirt and underwear. And it would be impossible not to remember changing back.

_Was it all just a dream?_

She was deeply troubled by this because everything seemed and felt so real. The searing heat of someone against her and a masculine musk mixed with something strong blinded her senses for a second, and she had to grip onto the table _hard_ to steady herself. The tingling sensation creeping into her body disoriented her greatly.

"I'm probably just stressing out too much." She muttered aloud as she yanked the bathroom door open.

Because really, she didn't any more disturbing hallucinations. Enough bullshit was enough, goddamnit.

* * *

The Nostrade princess sashayed around her humongous room as if she was in a photo shoot, picking up random clothes on the floor and tossing them carelessly after she inspected them. Clandestine sighed. The young lady practically did not have any sense of dignity while scampering around with nothing but her birthday suit. Apparently Eliza was sick that day and Senritsu became in charge of managing Neon's itinerary (as if her schedule was highly important, for god's sake). Understandably, it was not an easy task. The driver would also have thrown a fit if she was sat up in an arranged marriage by one of Mr. Nostrade's rich filthy old friends.

"Don't tell me what to do, Sen-chan, because you're only one of the few people I respect in this useless place. You'll lose it if you don't shut up." Neon spat as the tiny lady tried to gently reprimand her. "I don't give a damn what that idiot of a father says, he doesn't care for me anyway! I'm not that stupid not to understand that all he wanted was my stupid powers and his money _and_ his cheap sluts! He doesn't care for anything else and you know it!" She screamed. This argument was nothing new, but somehow her audience could not find any reply because of the truth in her words.

It's about damn time she ought to know about this anyway. Sugarcoating more lies could only bring more pain to the destructed heiress.

She jerked her head authoratively towards the other person in the room. "Get me Kurapika."

"He's with Mr. Nostrade for a business trip, Miss Neon."

A scoff escaped Neon's mouth. "What, so he could teach him how to be a greedy asshole too?"

When Clandestine was at a loss, she laughed bitterly and spoke in a softer tone. "No, I don't think so as well. He's lily. A hell of a fine one at that." She sat on the canopy bed and leaned her face in her hands. "Sen-chan, I might listen to you for now. Just _please _leave me alone for a few seconds and I'll be as _divine_ as the bouquet of flowers that the old son of a bitch sent." And she tilted her head back to the girl who looked like she just swallowed chalk. "And you. What's your name again?"

"Clandestine, maam."

"Clandy, then. Stay with me and don't go anywhere else. I want to ask you a few questions."

The girl stifled a groan.

Senritsu gave her an apologetic stare before shutting the door. Neon found a new dress and some shoes and gushed over them, completely disregarding the impatiently confused cobalt blue eyes of the young driver.

Feeling a bit irritated, 'Clandy' finally snapped."What is it, miss?"

"Patience, girlfriend." The young Nostrade gave her an odd smile while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at the girl's dull and unfeminine outfit. "I just want to know you better."

**Au/N: **_Again, I have to fill out Neon being OOC. I want to depict the way I pictured her to mature through the years and the way she would understand everything that happened around her through her actions and verbal remarks. I'm pretty certain she's not as stupid as everyone thinks canonically. On the darker scheme of things, twenty-two and seventeen is a far number, and the very childish and innocent personality she possessed during her teenage years would be impossible to maintain especially now that Light doesn't give a rat's ass about her. Surely there's a change of personality in every woman as far as transition from teen to adult is concerned. So yeah that's it XD_

**Cvgh, sea –**_thank you guys_


	10. Chapter 10

"See!? I told you. That outfit is like, so much sexier than those disgusting boy clothes you always wear. I mean, _for Kami's sake _I'd totally tap _that_!_" _Neon squealed none too silently as soon as Clandestine came out from the dressing room. She roughly took her by the waist and spun her around, praising herself for the impressive work she had done.

Clandestine, on the other hand, could not give a single bull. She did not comprehend the importance of those killing devices that dangerously took her off-balance in more ways than one. And what's this dress supposed to cover anyway? She could not even make two steps without uncomfortably tugging the hemline to at least maintain all that was left of her dignity!

"Ugh, come on, girl. Don't be such a prude virgin! Show them that lovely _rack _you got there_." _The heavily maquillaged saleslady gave a sassy wink, earning a wolfish howl from the stupid hooligan that got her into this mess. Did they just freaking make a call about her ass?

She imagined a slow, painful death with the use of hangers. Two mannequins also need heads and some arms and legs. Yes, maybe both of them could pull it off nicely.

"Anyway, I'll leave you two babes to yourselves. Just call me if you need help." The thirty-ish something woman smiled at the two girls, her two-inch heels click-clacking the fancily checkered floor. "Enjoy your shopping, ladies! And don't forget to snag them sexy hunks in the club. I'm sure you can get them _good _in no time." Neon giggled at the obvious innuendo of the parting woman while the other looked visibly appalled. Neon then linked her right arm around poor Clandestine's left arm and pulled her towards the cosmetics section. Horrified, the latter hurled her extreme distaste with several colourful obscenities and forcibly tugged herself away from the overly hyper heiress. But the scantily-clad girl didn't even budge.

"Oh, just shush it. You're not paying anything anyway. Consider this as my way of showing gratitude!" The young Nostrade's smile was too bright for her not to feel suspicious. Somehow, she figured this odd behaviour of hers was connected to their conversation earlier that day. She knew her enough to say that Neon would never buy anything foranyone other than herselfnow that the budget given was lower than she was used to, much less someone of Clandestine's status in the household.

"They're gonna arrive tonight, right?"

"Kind of."

Neon's eyes then twinkled in mirth when they were halfway done, her breath rushing in excited huffs while giddily dancing. "Ooooh, I'm _sooooo~ _gonna convert _him _nicely with my hot mess!"

Clandestine could only roll her eyes.

The day hadn't even officially started yet, but she was so damn tired already.

* * *

The _hacienda_ was the biggest and grandest one yet, perhaps around three hundred hectares or more. It was no way to tell with only the full moon and some lampposts which served both design and convenience to illuminate the road to the actual mansion but Senritsu gave more than enough information about the place and the person owning it all. Rich pine trees and mahogany lined the sides in an evenly manner and there were several cherub statues around the vicinity.

She stole a glance at the heiress sitting at the back through her rear view mirror. She had turned uncharacteristically quiet as they were coming closer to the mansion. The melancholic air, along with her fancy chignon and sultry eyes, made her more sophisticated and adult. She almost missed her bratty attitude. But only almost.

It was off-putting to see Neon's excitement to see the bodyguard dying when she found out where they were headed.

She kind of felt sorry for her though. Her father sold her to the old man owning all these grandeur in exchange for a bountiful part of his manor. What kind of dad would do that, anyway? Certainly Light Nostrade, and maybe hers.

No, scratch that. She never met her parents to begin with so there's no telling. But was leaving her to die as an infant in Meteor City (why, of all the fucked-up places) counted? Maybe her dad was even much worse than Light, if that was possible. Did he even kissed her goodbye when he left and—

She mentally reprimanded herself, _stop it. There's no point crying over spilled milk._

When they arrived, Light was already at the entrance door with a chaperone. Neon kissed her father's cheek with cold indifference, earning a disapproving look from the man, and they proceeded inside. Clandestine most especially did not appreciate the way Light's eyes travelled down her form before the doors closed.

Oh, how she wished this night would end already. Too bad her real task was far from over. The banquet she was supposed to take part in was nowhere around here. She could not decide if it was better or worse.

Several moments later, the unmistakeable figure of the blonde appeared on the door. His fancy black suit contrasted the white polo underneath that had two buttons loose, and his face held the usual I-shit-you-not expression. To Neon and some other silly women, it must've looked sexy. But to her, it meant something was definitely making him crankier than he already was.

His scowl was painfully apparent when he got closer. "I heard that you and Neon were talking about me."

Huh_._

She suppressed the urge scoff. Was he seriously miffed because of _just that?_

"Technically, it was more of her talking and me simply listening."

He crossed his arms, his hardened gaze boring into hers. "Elaborate."

She thought for a moment and re-encountered her little talk with the heiress. "Well, she asked me how much I knew about you, about your family and background and friends, what you like and dislike, if you have girlfriends, or if you're interested in anyone particular—"

"Basic information about my life." He muttered. "What did you tell her?"

She shrugged. "Told her I don't know you that much." And then her expression turned sheepish. "And, well... that you might like guys more."

His face turned blank. She took this as a bad sign.

"What..." Then his faced bloomed red in fury—or embarrassment? She could not tell. "... did you say?"

"I—god, calm down!" Her hands immediately shot up in defence as the steam blew considerably high on his head. "How am I supposed to know? You're not very clear of your gen—"

"_I am not homosexual!"_

"I—fine. I stand corrected, then." Clearly she was not convinced and this irritated the young bodyguard even more. No wonder Neon's advances were more adamant than usual. He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming, "Is that all?"

"Yes."

He exhaled deeply. "Fair enough." He took in a few more breaths to calm himself. As much as the girl was good about her job, her ability to irritate him was just as excellent. He did not know why, but the fiercely independent way she brought herself always rubbed him the wrong way, making her much more condescending in his eyes. Not only that, she even had the audacity to insult him with her unabridged words every now and then. Only a very few people could get away with that. Usually most people were too scared to even try.

It was then he properly noticed the change in her appearance. Her burgundy hair framed her lightly made-up face and curled lightly down her chest, earning a softer and more feminine look. The evergreen tube-dress also hugged her curves nicely and swirled above her knees. It was a new look for her, and he had to say it suited her.

He remembered her palpable hatred for high heels. In a strange act of revenge, he looked down on her toes that looked like it could bleed any minute now and smirked nastily. "Your feet are quite happy, I must say."

Her once unreadable expression turned to irritation. "Don't you start." She yanked the passenger's seat open with more force than necessary. When he didn't budge, her brow twitched. "What are you waiting for?"

His smug smirk didn't waver. "It's rude to let a lady drive, most especially if she was wearing such fancy apparel."

"_Please get in the car, boss."_ She hissed the last word with all the poison she could muster. It was a low blow and he fucking knew it.

Kurapika wordlessly went inside but the look on his face almost had her slamming the door.

_Stupid asshole of a bastard. _


	11. Chapter 11

She watched the jostle of metropolitan night life as she waited for the go signal in silence. The dress was not doing her any good, considering the cold was worsening by each passing minute and she forgot to bring her jacket out of pure idiocy on her part. Immune as she was to low temperatures, there's always a certain limit to how much she could take while wearing the d_amned stilettos._

Kurapika, on the other hand, was facing the window for quite some time now. She noticed that he was a bit less focused than usual and a little less sharp-tongued, like there's something bothering him. She tried her best not to think about it and paid attention to the road.

They arrived just in time for the convention to start. Repeating the assignment on her head, her arm automatically wrapped around the young bodyguard's arm and they entered the sliding doors with practiced grace. The mission was to act as a budding business couple for the first half of the night while scanning the vicinity for a rich artisan named Haegle, Light's ex-associate who had a humongous amount of debt on his sleeve. Then they would have to pin him down in private after a few sweet talks.

The guard in the entrance made a bow. "Good evening, Mr. Kurapika and Miss Clandestine. His Eminence Almerante is expecting you both."

"Thank you." They replied in unison.

Several people in formal dresses and suits already filled the hall. Both of them blended into the crowd easily to avoid catching any attention.

Then she noticed a generously large man walking towards their direction. She could easily tell that the tuxedo he was wearing was worth a dozen of expensive cars, at least. A broad smile flooded his lips as he stared at the person beside her. "You must be Kurapika, my young man. I am Almerante. I presume Light sent you here to negotiate on his behalf?"

"Yes, sir. I apologize for Mr. Nostrade cannot be with us today."

The man made a mock scowl, "So selfish of him to leave me be, that old bastard." His eyes then travelled to her, and it made her skin crawl when he spoke in a buttery voice. "And who might this fine young lady be?"

Kurapika turned to her and gave a frozen smile. She fought the urge to squeak when his warm hand lightly travelled to her waist. "She is Clandestine. She is my... lover."

She inclined her head towards the man who looked like a bug could crawl out from his eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Pleasure's all mine, I daresay." The man gave her another once-over, as if he could not quite believe what he just heard, and then led Kurapika elsewhere. She and the blonde shared a meaningful look before he disappeared completely amongst the crowd.

_Keep watch and be alert._

The first few times they did these kinds of inside jobs were personally mortifying for her. Although not equally as ending someone's life, the prospect of being someone's lover made her uncomfortable. It made her somewhat vengefully ecstatic when she found out that he was also immensely awkward in the field.

Well hell, she refused to be the only one who had to suffer, for crying out loud.

She was about to move forward when a hand took hold of her wrist. She turned to see who it was, and then her blood ran cold.

"Fancy seeing you here, my darling Clandestine. I never thought you'd hook up with an endangered specie."

* * *

**au/n: **_thank you, everyone :)_


	12. Announcement

Au/N: Ola! How are you guys? It's been a long while XD

I'm soooo sorry for the hiatus. I was very busy ever since last year –most especially the last 2 semesters—and I went through a lot of physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental pressure (Welp. Med school does bring out the shittiest of the shit in any person). This is the first time in 5 (or 6? 7? Or what I couldn't even remember anymore lol) that I have opened this websit. (yay/nay).

Anyhow, I decided to reread this fanfic from the beginning and I realized that the previous content in chapter 12 was an incredibly bad idea. I didn't know why I introduced Chrollo (or any Spider member in general—they're too fucking hard to manipulate) to Clandestine; it was never a part of my plan (how the hell did I come up with that anyway?) and now it gave me too little ideas to carry on with the story since it looked rushed and out of order. I initially planned this story to mainly revolve around new characters so that I can make use of my own setting, although I'll have to introduce some of the old ones so that I may not divert from the manga/original too much.

Since I'm still sticking to my initial plan, I have to remake the chapter entirely. Again, I have to apologize again for confusing you guys. I think I was not on the right state of mind when I made that. If you aren't pissed at me yet (*bows deeply* gomenasaaaaii!) and are still patient enough to wait for the next chapter, I shall be posting it soon! Probably around next week since enrolment for the next semester is still going on right now, so I have around eight glory days to spare before hell starts.

So like I said, I'm definitely updating very soon! It's completely different from the last crap I posted, though.

I love you all so so much and I hope you understand my predicament.

_PS: (MANGA SPOILERS ALERT!) I'm so proud of Kurapika-chan for getting into the zodiac's circle omgomg. He even snagged Pariston's glorious title muahahahah how cool is that?_


	13. Chapter 13

Almerante was a typical human-skinned demon.

Kurapika made the observation out of boredom when the man was boisterously telling him about his booming casino, his enormous drug dealings, his numerous unadulterated and mutated chimera children who were ones remnants of the last chimera ant invasion auctions, and his brothels made out of underage girls and boys. The young lad was still incredibly against these inhumane hobbies in secret, but with the years of being the Nostrade organization's boss had him get used to it. Virgins were mostly highly-priced, the rich bastard told him with a smug grin, and he said to have lots of them picked up (but of course, wisely chosen) from the streets and from the morons who couldn't pay their debts. Their children would be the ones that have to suffer for their stupidity, and maybe their wives too if the price wasn't enough to clear them out.

"Since you're such a huge asset to this partnership, I'll give you a discount too." The older man winked at him. He resisted the urge to slam his fist on the other man's face.

"I appreciate your generosity but I must pass."

The man made a hacking, cough-like sound which Kurapika perceived as his way of laughing. An early sign of lung cancer or tuberculosis. "Ah, but of course, you already have that beautiful young woman. Where did you purchase her, pray? Don't be shy, I'm genuinely curious." The man wagged his eyebrows at him with meaning. "My guess would be Atelier. They do keep the fine whores there although they cost quite a fortune."

Kurapika stopped walking. He could feel a surge of immeasurable hatred and disgust in his veins, his darkened aura ensuing around him. Being proud of his grotesque happiness was one thing, but undervaluing his colleague's worth was another—no matter how unorthodox she could be. Almerante and his bodyguards must have sensed this because the former flinched and the armored men at his back pointed their guns condescendingly. He exhaled slowly.

"I suggest you put your guns down because all of you are no match for me." He spoke in an eerily quiet voice. All of the bodyguards felt the hairs behind their necks prickle with fear and cold perspiration. "I need to make three things clear, if you don't mind, _sir."_

Having recovered from the initial shock, Almerante relaxed a bit and commanded an eased motioned to his men. "If you may, please."

"First and foremost," his calm tone did not waver for even a second, thus making the bodyguards more nervous. "I do not purchase any 'merchandise' unless if it was for Mr. Nostrade. Second, I hope we refrain from mentioning this subject again, especially when it comes to myself and the people I'm involved with." He could vaguely feel his eyes burning scarlet behind his contact lenses. He made sure that Almerante felt his rage, if he couldn't see it. "_Am I making myself clear?"_

The man simply smiled as if nothing happened. "Of course! It was only a joke, Kurapika-san. Don't mind me. Anyway, back to business." He continued walking, motioning the angered boy to come along. He looked back, his eyes shining with meaning. "After all, you _are _a valued guest."

Kurapika narrowed his eyes as they walked along. Something was not quite right.

He reached for his mobile phone and found out that Clandestine hadn't replied to any of his texts, which was quite uncharacteristic of her.

His worry skyrocketed.

* * *

She woke up to the smell of rotting carcass.

Her head felt incredibly heavy and damp, and her obscure vision adjusted to a concentration of silhouettes, something bright at her right side, and darkness at her left. She could not identify anything particular except for fast-moving colours and something in front of her.

She kept her head low, her chin touching her collarbone. She saw a pair of bloodied feet dangling on air, and torn clothes with bruised skin exposed. She looked up with great effort and found her arms nen-chained above her. The figure, which still looked impossibly hazy, said something.

Unluckily for the one speaking, her auditory capacities were completely obliterated except for a constant dizzying buzz. She tried to remember anything that occurred before she came to be. She remembered bright chandeliers and long hallways. She remembered the last person she talked to. She remembered her shock, the cold feeling that washed her entire body when she looked straight into the supposedly deceased person's eyes. She remembered the uncanny prick in her neck and wrist. She remembered her struggle to nothingness.

She tried to move, but her body was dead numb—she couldn't even feel the pain her wounds. Her eyes narrowed as her brain started to sluggishly process once again. This was no ordinary poison.

_Nen. _This poison was nen-infused. A powerful one, with some sort of black lotus ivy? She wasn't so sure.

Now why didn't she use it during her attempt to fight again? Ah, yes. She remembered now. Kurapika's stern instruction before they arrived was _to strictly refrain from using nen in front of many people because they would be at a disadvantage if enemies found out._ Damned bastard, now her trouble had tripled to the point that even her mind felt too unstable to focus on something as simple as _ten_ or _hatsu._

She cursed inwardly. She already knew that there were more than twelve people waiting to strike right after Kurapika left. He knew it too, and that's why he told her to keep alert, and distract them while he did the dirty business. They had done these jobs several times before and she had no problems with keeping them quiet without releasing her aura.

What both of them miscalculated was their enemies' mastery of their own abilities.

She didn't know that they were extremely efficient in up-close attacks without attracting the attention of many. Most of them were tactical specialists, which added up to more headaches, and there was that one woman she could not get her mind out of.

A highly-skilled manipulator who was supposed to be dead.

She closed her eyes again, trying to forget about her horror. Now wasn't the perfect time to be nostalgic. She needed to understand the point of her being a hostage.

She tried to decipher the smallest sounds she could make out despite the ringing sensations in her eardrums. _.. she.. not know much.. location.. scarlet eyes.. _

Wait, what?

_Scarlet eyes_. That was Kurapika's goal, wasn't it? It's been a few months since she had learnt of his tireless search using his own money and power. She didn't ask why, mainly because she understood by just looking at the other Nostrade bodyguards' forlorn expressions that this obsession of his was more than just for his own morbid collection, and that she knew he came from that lineage. She knew what happened to the blood-eyed clan. She was only ten during that time but she understood enough.

Aside from that, she was still adamant to her principle of not getting involved.

_... take the boy's instead.._

She laughed inwardly. That would be impossible. Her boss was the smartest asshole she had ever known in her life, far surpassing Light himself and her masters combined. His defenses were impenetrable, and anyone who was stupid enough to attack him was not forgiven.

Her eyes flew open when realization struck.

Unless.. if she was the sacrificial lamb.

She frowned. Wasn't that too simple of a reason? One life for a pair of eyes. Why did they take drastic measures just to get it? What _exactly _did the Kurtan eyes contain?

_... immense power from the devil's ancestors... creatures from the dark continent.. gift.._

Maybe.. maybe this was something else. Her gut was screaming that this was more than just a simple hostage incident.

_.. useful.. _

She felt another prick in her skin, and everything faded.


End file.
